Your Mother Would Not Approve of This
by Nye169
Summary: I'm not gonna lie, I just felt like we could all do with some Brittana sex. Don't read if you don't like reading sexy times, okay? Okay, cool. One-Shot. Romance Suspence *snort* Hehehe...


**I know, I should be updating at least one of my other fics right now and just for the record, I actually have started the next chapter for YWBTB but I just haven't gotten round to finishing it, mainly because I got that bloody writer's block again. SO! I did what my good friend Helen suggested and just did a little writing exercise. This. See, I just finished reading the wonderful fic Paperwoman by Lochnessie17 (bloody great fic that 'un), however while I left it with lovely heart squeezy feelings, I really wanted Brittana to fuck. So this is that. It's in no way tied to that fic, I just wanted to write it because I'm filthy. And in usual fashion, it's 04:00 and I need to be up in four hours for a three hour drive and then work.**

 **I do not own Glee or any other television programme mentioned in this work of fiction, so don't fight me please.**

Santana was bored.

She stared at the off-white walls of her living room with an empty mind, every now and then reminding herself that she was supposed to be trying to think of something to do. With Brittany having been called into work, she'd found herself surprisingly lost with what to do to make the most of her day off. She supposed she could maybe go to the park to feed the ducks and their new ducklings but sighed as she thought about how upset Brittany would be if she found out that Santana had gone without her. Perhaps she could have a wander around the new shopping mall that just opened up around the corner. She considered it as her gaze absentmindedly washed over the coffee table as she shuffled her feet around, rustling some papers. Again, Santana sighed, remembering her bills were due in a week and pay day was coming round slower than a tortoise that was stoned out of its mind.

She huffed out a breath of "Fuck it," and picked up the television remote, flicking through the crappy daytime channels. Bargain Hunt, no. Jerry Springer, no. Flog It, no. Loose Women, no. Eventually she settled on Big Bang Theory, though she'd already seen every episode so far. She slid her bum further forward to lean back deeper into the sofa cushions, kicked her feet up onto the corners of the table and habitually put one hand down the front of her shorts. She wasn't doing anything remotely suspicious to the sight of Sheldon Cooper, she just liked the way it kept her hand warm.

Santana didn't realise that she'd been sitting on that sofa for hours. She didn't know that this was a Big Bang marathon, she should have paid more attention. But when it was over, she continued to flick through the channels, into uncharted territory. Old episodes of Catch Phrase? When did that get there? Scrapheap Challenge? That was fucking awesome as a child. Babe Station? When did tha-, okay, Santana knew fine well about Babe Station. She snorted, watching as the young woman on her screen wiggled her scantily clad butt in front of the camera, pretending to be on the phone as terrible music drowned out any other sound. Who on Earth paid a dollar fifty a minute to call these women? Who was desperate yet lazy enough to pick up the phone and get off to the sound of a stranger telling them that they bet they were a sex God, moaning exaggeratedly when the caller would say the most vulgar things?

Santana guessed probably more people than one would think after she'd put it that way.

She jumped as her phone alerted her to a new email from the arm of the sofa, involuntarily twitching again as her fingers jumped with her. With her free hand she picked up the device to see whether it was work related or simply spam.

Quick! Subway's double points celebration ends on the 27th!

Santana tapped delete and pressed the central button, stopping to admire the home screen photo of her girlfriend. She smiled to herself, Brittany was truly the best thing she had going for herself, never mind her successful career. Her girlfriend gazed back at her, grinning widely as she jogged back up the beach toward her from the Mediterranean ocean. She looked so good in that blue bikini with her perfect abs, long legs and gorgeous blonde hair.

Santana couldn't help it when her warmer hand gave a little pressure against her, but she was also more than thankful that at least some part of her body could make a decision. She glanced at her hand in her shorts, to her phone, to her TV and back to her phone.

She shouldn't.

But now Santana's mind was going haywire, imagining her girlfriend in various different scenarios and she couldn't do anything to stop seeing the woman on TV as her girlfriend. She pictured Brittany as the one in very little clothing, kneeling on all fours with her back arched, baring her ass for Santana to indulge. She pictured Brittany in nothing but those black and navy crotchless panties Santana had bought her, laying on her back with her legs spread as she whined Santana's name. She pictured Brittany with a droplet of sweat rolling down her temple, furrowing her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip in a pointless attempt to stifle a moan as Santana buried her fingers in her, swiping her tongue across her clit on their kitchen counter.

Santana's palm pressed itself firmly against her core once more. She needed the relief it brought, she needed it but she relished the tightness in her abdomen. She could feel her wetness as she slowly started to trace her finger through her folds.

Scenarios started flicking through her mind like her life before her eyes. Herself cuffed to the bed posts as Brittany winked devilishly as she lightly bit her inner thigh, so close to where Santana needed her to be; Brittany's breasts bouncing, her arms weakly propping her torso up on the coffee table as Santana pounded into her with their feeldoe; Biting down onto Brittany's shoulder in the shower as she pumped her fingers in and out of her slick pussy, putting everything she had into making her cry out her name.

Santana had pushed her middle digit into herself and could feel herself lose control as her hand did what it had rehearsed many times. She couldn't hear the TV anymore, she could only hear the sound of her girlfriend's moan that she had committed to memory. Her eyes had closed themselves through no will of her own, shutting out anything that could distract from the film playing behind her eyelids.

Brittany had had a long day at work. She'd planned on having a lazy day with Santana but of course Puck had called in sick, leaving nobody else capable of running the place without her. It was times like these she was glad she was paid by the hour. But she was home now, thanking the wise Unicorn up above that she was finally turning her key in the lock. She pushed the door open and kicked off her work shoes, feeling like she'd been bolted to the floor and was suddenly light as a feather. She was glad to see her girlfriend's favourite sneakers were still there, knowing that meant that she was still there too. Brittany continued through the hallway to the kitchen to grab some water from the fridge, calling out to Santana to let her know she was home. She paused, listening for a reply, but heard nothing back. Concerned, that wasn't like Santana, she padded through to the living room.

And she stopped dead, stunned into silence as she took in what was happening in front of her. The TV channel set to Babe Station, the bills on the coffee table in total disarray and her girlfriend fucking herself on their expensive sofa. The sound of Santana's laboured breathing and the slight creak of the table as her hips bucked filled Brittany's ears and she couldn't take her eyes away.

She felt arousal start to build within her as she watched the way Santana's hand moved inside her shorts, knowing exactly what she could do with those fingers; the way her chest rose and fell heavily, wishing her lips were enveloping a perfect nipple; the way her head was thrown back, her eyes closed in ecstasy, she knew that it wasn't long before Santana's hard work would be paying off.

She couldn't let that happen just yet.

Santana could feel it happening, she could feel the point of no return about to overwhelm her. Her breaths came out in short puffs and her hand kicked it up a gear, going faster, desperate to feel that euphoria that she knew was promised.

Her heart nearly failed when she felt another hand grab her wrist, attempting to still her motions and her eyes shot open. She was momentarily mostly terrified by the interruption but part of her just couldn't stop, she needed to come. She watched in shock as Brittany stood over her, staring into her eyes and not letting go of her wrist. But her shock quickly turned to utter desperation when Brittany pulled her wrist away and straddled her lap, pinning her hands underneath her knees.

Santana couldn't compute what was going on, she couldn't think, she only knew that she would do anything to continue. Brittany maintained eye contact, enjoying the manic look Santana was giving her. She could feel the heat emanating from her and she could feel her own panties start to get unbearably wet. Without looking away from Santana, she waited until she felt her breathing calm down a notch before slowly sliding off of her lap to kneel on the floor in front of her. Her fingers gently tugged at the waistband of the Latina's shorts until they were around her ankles. She always loved that Santana went commando every Saturday. She didn't wait for permission, she already knew exactly what her love wanted.

The brunette's fingers tangled in blonde hair, holding her where she really fucking needed her to be. Brittany wrapped her hands around Santana's thighs and pulled her closer, needing to taste more of her, fucking her with her tongue as deep as she could get, earning a breathless whine in appreciation. She moved with her girlfriend's hips, never holding her down but doing what she wanted her to do.

As soon as she felt Santana start to tense up, she buried two fingers into her pussy, moving her tongue to her clit and pumping in and out quickly, brushing the tips of her digits over the sensitive wall inside with each thrust. She glanced quickly upwards and saw Santana's head thrown back once more before falling again to watch every move Brittany made. She had one hand in Brittany's hair, holding her closer still and one arm on the back of the sofa, trying to keep herself grounded as she felt herself about to reach the ultimate high.

"Fuck, Britt," Santana choked out. "I'm gonna…"

Brittany worked even faster, feeling Santana's muscles contract around her digits more frequently as she was about to-

"Come!"

 **i wrote this whole thing on my phone so if there are any weird autocorrects that I missed, HOLLA HOLLA!**

 **God, I miss you guys.**


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